


Christmas Miracle

by LadyWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas fic, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, caring Aziraphale, sick crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: It's Christmas and Crowley is sick. Luckily he has an angel there to take care of him.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	Christmas Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fic for DarkGreenHair

It started with a dry cough.

Aziraphale noticed it first and Crowley tried to ignore it, figuring it had something to do with the dry weather.

Until it got worse.

The cold had set in very hard and it was only November. Crowley hated the cold anyway, and wanted nothing more than to sleep through the winter, and yet Aziraphale was continuously dragging him everywhere, buying copious amounts of infernal Christmas decorations.

"It's not even December yet, angel," Crowley argued.

"I know, but it's so much fun to decorate, and we'll get to look at them for longer if we put them up now," Aziraphale said cheerily.

Crowley coughed into his mitten.

Aziraphale patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. After we pick a tree and get it set up, I'll make you some apple cider. That would be nice for a dry cough."

Crowley muttered under his breath, but that sounded okay. Especially since his throat just would not stop tickling.

It didn't get better from there.

Over the next couple days that Crowley helped Aziraphale set up the decorations the cough got worse until once, he had a coughing fit last so long that he was forced to double over, lacking air. When it was over and he felt wetness in his hand, he looked down and saw…

Blood?

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked with concern as he came to where the demon was standing, staring at the red on his palm. The angel gasped. "What happened?"

Crowley began to feel dizzy, chest constricting. He swayed and Aziraphale caught him. "Crowley?"

"A-angel," Crowley tried and coughed again, chest constricting.

"Come sit down," Aziraphale told him, ushering him toward the couch. "I'll get you something to drink."

Crowley caught his breath and Aziraphale sent him home. The demon went, rested, and tried to will himself to be better.

He did feel a little better the next couple days; went Christmas shopping with Aziraphale, and helped him finish the decorations, but he began to feel exhausted again, the tightness in his chest getting more and more impossible to ignore as the day continued, until he was trying to hide his coughing fits.

But of course, Aziraphale noticed.

"Are you still not feeling better, my dear?"

Crowley sighed. "Don't know. Doubt it's anything. Don't worry about it, angel."

But it wasn't nothing. Crowley only felt worse as the days went on. He tried to do everything he could to distract himself. Wrapping Aziraphale's gifts he'd carefully acquired, and tried to make them look nice because he knew the angel would care. When he went over to the bookshop again to hide them under the massive tree Aziraphale had placed in the center of the shop, his coughing got so bad that his chest ached. Aziraphale plied him with tea and blankets in front of the fire, but nothing really seemed to work and Crowley started, again, to cough up more blood than he would have liked. They had no explanation for this unexpected sickness either. It had come on so suddenly, Crowley couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve it.

The weeks passed through November and Crowley still didn't get any better. Aziraphale tried to do everything he could to make the demon comfortable, letting him stay in the bookshop so he would have someone to fetch him things since he just got weaker by the day, the sickness taking its toll.

And the incessive coughing didn't help. It only made things worse. Even if Crowley wasn't coughing blood, his whole body would be tight, the muscles strained from the continuous contractions. Even breathing was painful between the rawness of Crowley's throat, and the strained chest muscles.

One day Aziraphale sat on the couch with Crowley, allowing the demon to rest his head in his lap while he read some books to him. Crowley shifted and moaned, cringing at the pain even that small movement caused as he tried to muffle a cough in the blanket. Aziraphale paused in his reading and reached under the blanket covering Crowley to start gently massaging the tense muscles across his chest. Crowley gasped, teeth clenching at first as the angel found all the worst knots, but as Aziraphale continued rubbing in small circles, his chest actually started to loosen.

"Is that any better?" Aziraphale asked the sick demon.

"Hmmm," Crowley replied, closing his eyes again.

Aziraphale continued with his massage as he kept reading and eventually Crowley fell asleep.

Rituals like this continued as the days went by but though Aziraphale did everything he could for his friend, he was growing only more and more worried. It didn't seem to matter what he did for Crowley, the demon didn't get any better.

Aziraphale went to the store to find every medicine he could that might help, but none of it really seemed to do anything. He bought the freshest vegetables and made Crowley chicken soup because that was supposed to work, but he could barely stomach anything more than a little broth. Tea and honey did little better than cough drops to relieve the coughing and the coughing itself caused its own problems.

It was a very cold day. Aziraphale had moved Crowley up to the small bedroom in the apartment above the bookshop so that he could be more comfortable. He even found a small heater to put in there, keeping the room as warm as possible. He also pulled as many blankets out of storage as he had, piling them over Crowley who still, even with all of that, couldn't seem to get warm.

Aziraphale brought up a tray with a mug of broth on it, and set it on the side table. The demon's labored breaths were painful to listen to and his face, peeking out of the blankets, was so pale. Dark bruises rested under his eyes, the skin looking thin and stretched. Aziraphale pressed his lips together in a pained line. He really hated seeing his friend like this. It was such a shame. The apocalypse was over, they had survived so much, and now for this to happen, and during the holidays too. Aziraphale had even managed to get Crowley involved in Christmas celebrations this year, which he'd always only ever grudgingly done before. And Aziraphale had been so excited to share the holiday with his friend now that they didn't have to worry about Heaven and Hell. It was supposed to be a year where they got to relax and truly enjoy the holidays.

But now that Crowley was sick, and didn't seem to be getting better, it seemed like that likely wasn't going to happen after all.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale coaxed gently as he set the tray down and reached out to nudge the demon's shoulder.

Crowley stirred and his eyes blinked open, dull yellow and sickly looking. He gave a small groan.

"I brought you some broth. Let me help you sit up so you can drink," Aziraphale told him and reached out, adjusting the blankets to sit Crowley up, reaching out to prop a pillow behind him.

Crowley's breath hitched and he started to cough, burying his face in some blankets as he doubled over. Aziraphale gripped his shoulder and tried to rub his back, feeling how tense Crowley was, but the demon only seemed to cough harder, the sound painful and wheezing, until he let out a gasp that ended in a scream and doubled over, clutching his arms around himself.

"Crowley? What is it? What happened?" Aziraphale asked, frantic.

Crowley's chest convulsed with aborted coughs as he moaned in pain, toppling sideways while he wrapped his arms around his torso, knees draw up protectively.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale reached out, careful when he touched him in case he only caused more pain, but he needed to know what had happened.

Crowley's eyes were leaking tears under the lids. "S-side," he said. "Ribs."

His hand clutched spasmodically against his ribcage and Aziraphale reached out, pulling down the blankets, and gently taking Crowley's hand away as he pulled the demon's pajama top up as well.

Bruising was already starting to show against Crowley's pale skin, and on top of that, Aziraphale was horrified to see just how thin Crowley had gotten during the course of his sickness. Not that he'd ever had any spare flesh to begin with, but he'd been wiry and deceptively strong. Now though, what little muscle mass Crowley showed before was completely gone, nothing much left but skin and bones that had been hidden under the bulk of blankets and sweaters for the past few weeks.

Aziraphale bit his lip at the sight, horrified, but there was more to worry about now. As his fingers gently traced across Crowley's ribcage, the demon suddenly yelped and curled up, starting to cough again before he stopped with a few wheezing breaths, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale breathed. "I think the coughing has been so bad that you've broken a rib."

Crowley moaned and buried his face into the blankets.

Aziraphale's face scrunched in pain for the demon, but there wasn't really much he could do. He got some bandages and bound Crowley's chest to make it feel a little better, but he knew that unless they could get the coughing to stop, there really was no way for his ribs to get better under the constant strain.

He soothed Crowley as best he could, got him to take some pain medicine for how much that would do for him and got a little broth into him before he tried to help Crowley get back to sleep by stroking his hair and sitting on the bed, reading to him.

Crowley broke three more ribs during the course of the next few weeks, as his health declined even further. It was all he could do to even sit up to drink the tea and broth Aziraphale brought him anymore. It was like he had lost all the strength he'd ever had.

But Christmas got closer and closer, until on Christmas day, Aziraphale, even though he didn't feel much like celebrating anymore decided that they could at least go and enjoy the tree and listen to some Christmas music on his gramophone.

Crowley needed a change of scenery anyway, and so Aziraphale picked him up, blankets and all, and carried him down to the back of the bookshop, settling him as carefully as he could on the couch, before he went to stoke up the fire.

Crowley coughed weakly, watching from between half closed eyes as Aziraphale went around, trying to smile, while he turned the tree lights on so that they glittered in the branches, and then went to his massive record collection and flipped through them for a while, until he selected an orchestral version of Christmas songs with a choir singing along; a record that he was particularly fond of.

After that, he fumbled around in his shelves until he came up with his copy of _A Christmas Carol_ which he brought back to the sitting room, currently being warmed by the fire, which helped to cast a cozy ambience through the room.

"There now, dear, let me read to you. We have nothing better to do today." He took a seat on the couch, allowing Crowley to prop his head against his thigh as he read the story of Ebenezer Scrooge

Crowley watched the fire dance in the grate, trying to concentrate on that as well as Aziraphale's calming voice as he read. He still hurt with every breath and he tried to breathe as shallowly as possible so he wouldn't start coughing again, but it only lasted so long and soon he was having another violent coughing fit that made his whole body ache, especially his throat and broken ribs.

Aziraphale stopped reading and turned to start massaging Crowley's chest again, trying to ease the tension, though he was careful not to agitate the broken ribs any more than they already were.

"How about I get you a cup of tea, dear?" he asked as he gently slid from under Crowley, propping him up with a pillow before he left to head toward the kitchenette.

Crowley lay there in misery. He hated this. Not only because he was in so much pain, but because he was ruining Christmas for Aziraphale too. The angel had been so excited to finally get the chance to celebrate together without worrying about anything this year, and then Crowley had to go and get sick, and leave the angel to take care of him.

But…he had gotten him gifts! Crowley had almost forgotten in his fevered brain during his convalescence, but one of the last things he had done had been to get Aziraphale some gifts he had thought the angel would really like.

If nothing else he could still give Aziraphale those, maybe brighten his Christmas up a little. Where were they then?

Crowley glanced around, and then saw that there were several gifts sitting underneath the tree. He could see the ones he had wrapped where he had tucked them near the back, warning the angel not to go snooping until it was Christmas.

It wasn't that far. Crowley could probably manage to get over there, and have the gifts ready for Aziraphale when the angel came back with the tea.

He pushed himself up with herculean effort, arms shaking, and tried to get his feet over the side of the couch.

He only made it two steps before his body simply gave out and he collapsed with a cry, ribs and body singing with pain as he lay on the floor, feeling like he was dying.

"Crowley, what was…Crowley!" Aziraphale cried as he came back into the room, hurriedly setting the tea tray down and rushing to the demon's side. "What are you doing up? You aren't strong enough right now to get out of bed."

Crowley was practically sobbing with pain as Aziraphale gently maneuvered him into a sitting position, checking him for injuries.

"Just…wanted to get…your presents," the demon muttered miserably.

Aziraphale huffed, picking the demon up and carefully setting him back on the couch. "Crowley, it's okay…just relax."

"No," the demon said firmly, trying now to even attempt to keep his head up. "We should…still…have Christmas. Even if I'm sick. No reason to…stop on…my account."

Aziraphale looked pained, but he carefully settled Crowley down and tucked the blankets back around him before he went to the tree and gathered all the gifts before sitting back down on the couch, the gifts between them.

"All right then," he said and gave a small smile. "Let's open the gifts."

Crowley opened his own, having barely enough energy to do so, and was happy with what Aziraphale had picked out for him, before he watched eagerly as the angel began to open his own gifts, careful of the wrapping.

As soon as the paper fell away, Aziraphale gasped, revealing two old books that were in mint condition.

"Oh, oh Crowley!" Aziraphale said, seeming at a loss for words. "These are…I've been looking for these for years. Wherever did you get them?"

Crowley managed a small tired smile. "I know people."

Aziraphale met his eyes, and his own were wet as he smiled at the demon. "Thank you, my dear. This was very thoughtful."

Aziraphale made them tea and they drank a little of it before the angel got up again and left without explanation. Crowley furrowed his brow, but Aziraphale came back not much longer carrying a small television.

"What's that, angel?" Crowley croaked.

"A television," Aziraphale told him as he set it on a small table and searched for a plug to plug it in. "Er…don't usually watch it except for specials so I keep it in storage. But I thought you would like to see something. Maybe it will help take your mind off things."

Crowley settled back as Aziraphale turned the television on and flipped channels until he found one playing reruns of _Golden Girls_.

"Ah!" the angel said, stepping back. "You like this show, don't you, my dear?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "It's fine." But he was secretly surprised that Aziraphale knew that he liked the show.

Aziraphale came back over to the cough and settled down, propping Crowley against him to help him breathe better, wrapping them both in blankets. Crowley settled back, closing his eyes.

"Sorry, Christmas didn't go as we planned," the demon murmured after a while.

Aziraphale looked down at him, rubbing a hand over his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, dear. There will be other Christmases. I'm not upset about that. I'm just sorry you've been so sick, and that there doesn't seem to be anything we can do about it."

Crowley closed his eyes with a long sigh. "Yeah, well, hopefully I'll get better soon."

At the moment though, he was just genuinely glad to have a friend like Aziraphale. He wasn't sure what he would have done without him.

~~~~~~~

_The next morning_ , Crowley woke up on the couch and something felt…different. He actually felt rested for one and also…he didn't feel so much of the tightness in his chest that had been constant. Nor the urge to cough. He sat up and saw Aziraphale sitting in his chair beside the couch, looking up with surprise to see Crowley awake and sitting up with only a little difficulty.

"Crowley?" he asked. "can I get you something?"

Crowley took a deep breath and felt only a small twinge from his ribs.

"Are you okay?" the angel asked, concerned.

Crowley turned to him and offered a small smile. "I…I actually think I'm feeling better, angel."

"You—you are?" Aziraphale asked, as if not believing it.

Crowley didn't believe it much himself. He was silent for a while as he assessed his body but, yes, it was true. He did feel better. His chest was less tight, his throat less sore, and though he still felt rather weak, there was none of that all-encompassing exhaustion that had accompanied him for weeks.

"Yeah, I do think I am feeling better. Really."

"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale said, smiling as tears welled in his eyes, unable to help himself after having watched his friend suffer for so long. "I am so glad. It truly is a Christmas miracle, isn't it?"

Crowley didn't even have the heart to roll his eyes at the angel as he usually would. He was just so relieved to be feeling better.

"Yeah, maybe it is, angel. Maybe it is."

And from that point on, Aziraphale nursed Crowley back to health rapidly and even though it hadn't been the Christmas they expected, they had still had each other and that was all that mattered in the end.


End file.
